The Secret in the Agent
by xXriujooXx
Summary: Oneshot. It’s the end of a tough case, and Booth can’t hold on to his secret any longer. B/B


**So it's been an eternity since I've done Fanfiction. I know. And those of you who follow my NCIS stuff are probably super pissed right now. I'm sorry. The Writing Mojo Gods decided to take my inspiration away from me, and thus I've been suffering. But I'm trying to get my groove back, because I wanna finish that NCIS story I freaking started like, a year ago. (wtf is wrong with me?)**

**Thus, in an effort to cure myself (since begging and ritual animal sacrifices did not appeal to the Writing Mojo Deities in any way) I've decided to try something new. I've never written BONES fanfiction before, so I apologize if things seem a bit OC or something. I'm still trying to get a handle on all the characters as I am a relatively new passenger on the BONES train. **

**Spoilers for...5x01, Harbingers in the Fountain I guess. **

* * *

**THE SECRET IN THE AGENT**

...

I was sitting in my office, trying to concentrate on the end-of-case paperwork that was sitting on my desk.

It had been a nasty one. A girl had been found, beaten, raped, and hogtied in the trunk of a '94 Toyota that had been sitting at the bottom of a lake for ten years. Examining the skeleton, Brennan found that the girl (seventeen-year-old Ashleigh Hart) had been a victim of habitual abuse. The lack of evidence, and the huge amount of time that had passed since she had been reported missing, had made the entire case difficult and grueling the whole time.

And it didn't help that witnesses and suspects alike kept turning up dead, all with the same M.O. Tempers were flaring and everyone was on edge, the squints turning the same clues inside out and upside down in the hope that if they stared harder and used larger words that a new groundbreaking clue would suddenly appear.

Two weeks crawled by, and I was forced to interview Ashleigh's then-boyfriend again and again. It tore my heart out when I had to force him to relive his story.

He and Ashleigh had gone to the park to celebrate their one-year anniversary.

"I was waiting by the swings for her, and she comes up, hands covered in blood," he had explained with anger in his voice. "I'd had suspicions that her stepfather was abusing her, when mysterious injuries would appear seemingly without explanation, but she always had an excuse handy to throw me off the chase. She didn't want me to get involved. But when she showed up at the park, tears in her eyes and blood running down her hands, there were no excuses. She told me everything, every single incident and the real reason for every single injury. Ashleigh had finally snapped, and wanted to run away."

"And did she?"

"We made plans to run away together. I loved her and didn't want her to disappear without me. So we arranged to go and pack, then meet back at the swings. Then we would grab my car and drive across the border to Virginia and hide at her aunt's house."

"What did your parents think of this plan?"

"I told them what happened to Ash and they let me go. They said they would call the police…" the guy trailed off, trying to get a handle on his emotions. His parents were among the dead.

"Mr. Reynolds, I need you to finish the story. What happened next? Did you meet up with Miss Hart?"

I took a deep, shuddering breath as the memories threatened to overwhelm him. "No…" he whispered. "She never showed up. I never saw her again."

There was a long pause.

"I should have never let her out of my sight!" Jason shouted, banging his fist down hard on the table. "I should have stayed with her! In all the rush, I-I…I didn't even tell her that I loved her."

"Mr. Reynolds," I said quietly, sympathy in my voice. "There was nothing you could have done. Had you stayed with her, we would have been pulling your body out of the lake as well."

His head shot up. "You found her?" he asked hoarsely.

Slowly, I pulled the crime scene photo out of the file and slid it across the table to him. Oh, what I wouldn't give to erase the image of that boy's horrified face from my mind.

Jason Reynolds was there when we finally found that conclusive piece of evidence tying Ashleigh's father to her murder. Arresting him was probably the one of the highlights of my career. We still had yet to tie him to the murders of her aunt, mother, grandfather, best friend, and Jason's parents, but now we could be sure that no one else would die by that man's hand.

So now I was sitting in my office, trying and failing to fill out all the damn paperwork, and still that kid's voice kept ringing in my mind.

"_I-I…I didn't even tell her that I loved her."_

The face of Dr. Temperance Brennan floated unbidden into my mind's eye. It had been doing that a lot lately. I let out a loud groan and massaged my temples in frustration. She distracted me too much already when she was actually _around_ (in a good way, mind you. A very good way…) but it just got way too much when we were apart. My nights were often filled with dreams akin to the alternate reality I experienced in that coma; images of her with me flashing across my mind.

Sweets told me that my love for her would fade, that it was just an after effect of that stupid surgery. But I didn't believe him. I didn't believe what all those damn scientists said, about love caused by a specific set of chemicals in the brain and all that nonsense. I _liked_ believing that love was something magical, something cosmic, something so out of this world that it turns you upside down and everything as you know it has changed. Love wasn't something to be surgically engineered. It was insane. It was wild. It was crazy. Unpredictable.

And yet, thanks to Sweets planting the seed of doubt in my head, Bones would never know how I feel. That damn psychologist and his damn brain scans were making me doubt myself. I valued her feelings so much higher than my own that I was willing to suffer for her piece of mind. I wish I could know how she felt. How she _truly_ felt without all that rational, work, _partners_ crap that she kept in the forefront.

With a sigh, I tried to shove everything back in the corner of my mind reserved for insane ideas and concentrate on the damn paperwork. You'd think that all this nonsense would prevent me from discharging my gun, but there was just something about that guy that made me, I don't know…a little trigger happy, perhaps. Serial killers, rapists, and men who beat women all made it on that list, and unfortunately for our guy he'd fit all three of those criteria at once. A scumbag trifecta. I will sleep better at night knowing that he wouldn't ever be able to rape anyone again. It's kinda hard to do that when you no longer have to proper equipment.

I gave up and threw the stupid pen down when I read the same question eight times over without taking in a single word. Bones was interrupting my thoughts again. She really needed to stop doing that if I was to make any progress on this. I sent her to her corner again.

But, inevitably as always, she came back, louder and more forceful than the times before. Just like the real thing. So I sighed and admitted the crushing defeat, leaning back in my chair and closing my eyes, letting her take over my imagination. However, I was just in the middle of reliving a particularly pleasant interlude at the diner a couple days ago when Sweets walked into my office without even knocking.

"Hey Agent Booth, do you have a minute?" the kid asked, taking a seat in one of the chairs in front of my desk. My eyes snapped open and I fixed the young psychologist with a This Better Be Damn Important stare. He was slowly growing a background. The slight flinch he usually had when on the receiving end of that expression was noticeably smaller. Almost imperceptible.

Almost.

"Okay, cool," Sweets continued, taking my silence as a cue to proceed. "How are things with you and Dr. Brennan?"

I raised my eyebrows. "Same as they were when we saw you earlier today, Sweets. Why the hell are you asking me that?"

"I was trying to ease into the conversation by starting out with a familiar topic."

"Why don't you skip that and go straight to the part where you explain to me why you're in my office without an appointment?"

"You make appointments?"

"No. And don't avoid my question."

"Ah. I see. It was sarcasm directed at me—"

"Sweets! The point!" I was getting frustrated. This kid was really annoying sometimes.

"Yeah. Oh yeah. Anyway," he started again, flustering a bit. "Do you remember those brain scans I gave you a couple months back?"

"Yes." I didn't feel the need to bring up that I kept them with me almost all the time.

"Do you feel back to normal? Have you had a brain scan recently?"

I sighed and yanked open the drawer I kept them in and shoved the file at him. "The top one was taken last week."

Sweets studied it for a long time, his face impassive so I couldn't read what he was thinking. It was a minute or two before he spoke.

"It's very strange for the effects of your coma dream to be taking this long to dissipate," he said, handing the file folder back to me. "Are any other things taking so long to–"

"Come on, Sweets! Stop talking about love as if it's an effect of brain surgery! I loved Bones before the surgery. Now I just love her more."

A huge grin broke out on the psychologists face. "Well it's about time you finally admitted that to yourself, Agent Booth," he said smugly.

"What?"

"That you love Dr. Brennan. You've never said it out loud yourself in so many words."

"But you knew that already."

"I knew, sure. Everyone knew it. It's only blatantly obvious to the entire _world_ aside from you two. I've just been waiting for you to admit it to yourself."

"What, you mean you've been treating this as some sort of…experiment?"

"No. It has merely been an object of…scholarly fascination. No experimentation. I swear."

There was a moment of silence as I stared across my desk at Sweets, not sure whether to strangle him or not.

"So what are you going to do now?" he asked me.

"What do you mean?"

"When are you going to tell Dr. Brennan that you love her?"

"Whoah, whoah, whoah," I spluttered. "Back up. I never said I was going to do anything of the sort."

"But…you have to!" he protested, sitting up straighter in his chair. "You can't keep something this…this…_huge_ a secret from the only person it concerns! It's borderline cruel."

And then those words were floating back to me again.

"_I-I…I didn't even tell her that I loved her."_

"Come on. I'll even go with you. As backup. A second, if you will. Wing man."

I sighed in exasperation. "No. I'm not going to do that to Bones. You know how she feels about that sort of thing. She'll either completely overlook the significance and say something along the lines of 'That's nice, Booth. Now can you hand me that tray of human remains?' or launch into one of her epic tirades on the stupidity and impracticality of human attachment."

"Or she may surprise you."

"I don't know about that, Sweets. It doesn't sound like Bones."

"I know that she really cares for you and that she would probably never admit it to your face. I know that of all the men in the world, she wanted to have a baby with you. And I know that she was the only one who didn't leave your side while you were in the hospital. Not for one second. Name one other person who would do that for you."

I thought about it. "I don't think even my brother would do that for me."

"If you tell me that's not love then you and I are going to have to have a serious talk on the meaning of that word."

"What are you trying to say to me here, Sweets?"

"I'm saying that I know for a fact that Dr. Brennan is in her office right now trying to do paperwork and would probably welcome the chance to see her favorite FBI agent. That last part was Angela's, not mine. She told me to say it."

"Angela's in on this?" I asked incredulously. So much for hoping to keep the whole thing under wraps…

"Did you not hear the part where I said that everyone knew how you felt about Dr. Brennan except you?"

I stood up, not knowing why I did so. I was just suddenly seized with the extreme desire to talk to Bones. My hand froze as I reached for my coat, wondering what in the hell I was about to do.

"You owe it to her to be honest. Keeping something bottled up inside will not only destroy you, but her as well. She will find out eventually, you know. And she better find out about it from you. Tonight." Sweets grabbed my coat and placed it in my hands. "Come on. I'll drive."

Sweets drove like an old lady on a country road. I distracted myself from the task at hand by making fun of him. God, I was nervous. My hands were practically shaking. Suddenly I was flashing back to high school and I was asking the head cheerleader to the Junior Prom. Even then I hadn't been this freaked out. My 'Cocky' belt buckle wasn't even helping, though the advice was good.

"Can you hurry it up a little, Grandma?" I asked the psychologist. "I'd kind like to get my humiliation over and done with so I can go drown my sorrows in a nice bottle of whiskey waiting for me at home."

"Interesting. You're attacking me verbally out of nervousness. So—"

"No. No psychological crap is allowed in this car so long as I am in it and unable to escape."

..........................................................

"Booth!" Angela said as Sweets and I walked into the lab. "You look pale. Are you sick?"

"He came here to talk to Dr. Brennan about something," Sweets said pointedly, and I cringed both at home terribly un-subtle he was being and the ridiculous grin that was now plastered all over Angela's face.

"She's in her office," came Cam's voice from behind. I turned swiftly around and discovered that I was now surrounded on all sides by squints who knew exactly why I was here. I was pretty sure I was a dead ringer for the deer-in-the-headlights look. Cam had one eyebrow raised and was fixing me with a laughing expression. "Go get her, tiger."

As I passed by Hodgins towards Bones' office, the etymologist gave me a reassuring pat on the back. I almost didn't notice it as I continued to walk like a zombie down towards those glass doors.

"Bones?" I asked, knocking lightly on the open door and trying extra hard to keep my voice under control.

She looked up from what she was doing, her hair falling into her face. "Booth!" she said, her eyes lighting up and a smile playing across her face. "What are you doing here so late? Did we miss something?" She stood up and I took a couple steps towards her.

"Oh, no," I said. "Everything's cool. I just…I just wanted to stop by and see how you were doing, you know. I couldn't concentrate on the paperwork."

"So you thought you'd come of here and distract me from mine?" Her tone was admonishing, but her eyes suggested otherwise.

"Well, yeah," I said lamely, taking a couple more steps in her direction. She walked out from behind her desk and suddenly we were inches apart. "I also had something I wanted to tell you that's…been on my mind lately…"

Damn it. No going back now.

"Yeah? What?"

My mouth was suddenly way to dry. I took a deep breath and continued. "Actually, it's been longer than that. A year or two at least. I don't know. Who ever really knows these things? Anyway, it sort of hit me today, like an epiphany or something. Yeah. Something Reynolds had said…he's a really…"

"Booth. You're rambling," Bones interrupted.

"Oh. Yeah. Well, I just wanted to say that you mean the world to me, Bones, and that if anything were to happen to you I don't think I would be able to live with that."

Her brow furrowed. "The life of a fully adult human being is not completely dependent on the life of another. Unless, of course, they're conjoined twins in which that case your statement is true. Though that exception does not apply to us."

"No Bones, just listen. We are connected, don't you understand? Maybe not physically, but definitely something else. I can feel it. I also feel that without you, I am lost. I can't really imagine how I got through life without you before."

"Your lungs turned air into carbon dioxide and your heart pumped it throughout the body."

"Bones, just go with me on the metaphorical stuff, okay? Aren't you hearing what I'm saying to you?"

"I'm afraid I'm not understanding the point you're trying to introduce to me."

"I'm saying that I love you, Bones. I _love_ you."

"And I love you too, Booth. We already went over that."

"But there's a difference this time," I said, on impulse taking her hand in mine. "Not only do I love you as the most incredible best friend and partner a guy could ever ask for, but I am _in love_ with you. _In love. _That crazy, insane, euphoric type of feeling that I only get from being around you. I can hardly stand it when we're apart, you know? I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I—"

But I was cut off mid-rant by the incredible sensation of her lips on mine as she threw her arms around me. It was furious and full of passion and I wrapped my arms around her to bring her closer. It felt like a thousand sunsets, a hundred rainbows, and the Steelers winning the Superbowl every year for the rest of eternity all packed into one moment.

She pulled away way too soon for my liking. "Why are you telling me this now?" she asked me, her arms still around my neck. "What about your…line?"

"I was just thinking about the case, and how that kid wished he could have told his girlfriend that he loved her and all that, before she died. And you never know what's going to happen tomorrow, right? It's impossible to know. So I decided that it was stupid of me to keep my feelings for you a secret."

Her expression was unreadable. As we maintained eye contact. I didn't know what to do know…she was still holding on to me, and she had kissed me not a minute before, but she hadn't actually said anything. I waited, not even willing to breathe, for her to say something.

"I love you too, Booth," she said softly after the longest minute of my life. "I really do. And I don't understand why."

I leaned down and kissed her again, a huge grin on my face. And then, being the romantic, cheesy guy that I am, I picked her up and twirled her around once, enjoying the small laugh that escaped her lips. Now I was facing the door to her office, and I caught sight of something. The squints were failing at trying to be indiscreet as they stared through the glass to watch the exchange between Bones and me. Sweets was grinning like a lunatic and I rolled my eyes at him.

"Let's go to the diner, Bones," I said finally. "We're starting to be distracting." She turned around and saw all her coworkers peering in through the window. Someone let out a low wolf whistle.

"Yeah, okay," she said, letting go of me and grabbing her purse off her desk.

"And besides, I could really go for some pie right about now."

....

* * *

**Yeah. I know that was super fluffy. But plot-less fluff is the easiest to write and I'm trying to ease myself back into things here. **

**And I know many people don't think Brennan would jump Booth like that, but I see her as very unpredictable. That she changes her mind about things a lot. I mean, remember that stuff about not wanting children, to wanting a baby, to not wanting it again? She contradicts herself almost all the time. I find that quite fascinating.  
**


End file.
